Tuesday, April 29, 2008

This was the day I’ve dreaded and would have done just about anything to avoid.But there’s no stopping it.

It’s been a long time coming…but suddenly it’s here.Hard to believe…but it was just a month ago…my mom was doing okay…the Alzheimer’s way.Then a phone call about a quarter to 11 pm on April 4th…started a chain of events that seem unstoppable.

My mom was being transported to the emergency room because she was having trouble breathing.I arrived at the emergency room and found her in bed struggling for every breath.It wasn’t just labored…she was fighting for each breath.I was reminded of someone who had just run a marathon and couldn’t catch their breath.Gayle was conscience, but not really.As the night wore on, tests were done, breathing treatments were given and her breathing improved.Despite my protests and efforts to keep her at Placentia Linda, my mom was transported to Anaheim Memorial.

I texted Chris, “Mom in ER, call you in the AM”.Our date and plans for the day would have to be set aside.I headed home about 2:30 in the morning.The hospital promised to call me with confirmation that she would be transferred and when.Before I even lay my head on the pillow I got the call…she would be transferred within the hour.When the phone rang at 5, I tried to focus and answer the nurse’s questions.They would be getting Gayle settled and I went back to sleep…even if it was just a few hours.

I set the alarm for 8.I figured that’s not too early to call Chris and break the bad news.I found Chris awake and getting ready.He was surprised by the news…but eager to come and be my side…even if that was in a hospital room.I can’t tell you how grateful I was to feel the warmth of his embrace and have him by my side as we navigated the hall and maze of Anaheim Memorial.

In the 3 ½ days at the hospital my mom’s interactive abilities declined steeply.While not able to engage in a conversation…she was able to respond.Some of the nurses we encountered were very good.Kind, sweet and made the effort to help someone who could not function on their own.Some of the nurses left me asking why in the world they are working in nursing.Nothing in their personality or skills gave any hint of compassion and caring.

As difficult as that was…it paled in comparison to what we would experience over the next few days and weeks.The bad dream would soon become a nightmare.Her title was discharge planner.But I was certain I had seen her in a movie and her name was Nurse Ratched.Wretched would be a more apt description.I begged her to try and get Gayle transferred back to BrightonGardens.She said she’d try and even took down names and contact numbers.But because she was unwilling to give the information they needed to evaluate if she could be returned…it remained in limbo.It was only after I talked with the folks at Brighton I discovered that this woman had lied to me.Her lies, laziness and lack of compassion resulted in Gayle being transferred to St. Edna’s.

That’s the place where I first realized…my mom is going to die soon.The smell of the place left me with the overwhelming impression that she was going to die there.Her pneumonia was gone…but she was scared and depressed.She had given up.St. Edna’s was the death knell or the proverbial nail the coffin that would lead Gayle on the path to a divine appointment.

St. Edna’s was also the place where I was introduced to Hospice.These people worked miracles to get my mom transferred back to her home.A place where she is known as Gayle and not the patient in bed 40 C.She is well known and well love.A place where tears are shed at her impending death and hugs given in love.

She was transferred back to Brighton on a Saturday.While I knew she wouldn’t regain all her skills and functioning…I figured that she’d bounce back a bit.But I was wrong.Her improvement was short lived.She had given up…and that was most evident in the fact she had stopped eating.

That first day back she was looking quite ragged.Knowing that any girl feels better when they look better, I had her go to the beauty shop for a hair cut.Something short and much different than she had before.But I wanted something that would look good, even when she wasn’t doing good.

Her fading began and was more evident with each passing day.Oh she took a couple of bites of pudding and drank some juice…but that was it.Soon she would be eating nothing.Getting thickened juices down her would be considered a triumph.At first she was up and about in her new wheel chair.Before long she would be in bed, 24/7.

Then came the call from the Hospice nurse.She’s in the process of dying.Maybe a couple of weeks.My regular weekly visits now became a daily thing.At first she was awake for part of the time…interacting a bit.But soon…she’d sleep the whole time through…except when the pain awakened her.

While my mom’s state of salvation has been on my mind for many years…I now find myself desperate to make sure she is a daughter of the King of kings.If her salvation was based on works…she’d be saved.If one could go to heaven because they are good person…she would be welcomed through the Gates of Heaven.

But I know my scripture.I know salvation is not based on works, nor how good a person is.The Bible plainly tells us that there is no one righteous, no not one.If you confess with your mouth and believe with your heart that Jesus Christ is Lord, you will be saved.

To my knowledge my mom had never openly shared her believe that Jesus Christ is Lord and that He died to pay the penalty for our sins.That His death and sacrifice is applied to our sin debt when we receive Him as our Lord and Savior.My mom had been in church for many years…but I couldn't say with assurance she is in Christ.

That’s why every visit now…I’m telling her about Jesus.I’m reciting the sinner’s prayer.Reading scripture, knowing that even now, even in her advanced state of Alzheimer’s that God can reach her.I’ve put in request after request that people pray for her salvation.When I get upset and cry, people try to comfort me and ask if they can do anything.My one answer is please pray for my mother’s salvation.

I’ve been surprised by people’s reactions.Not so much from unbelievers.They think that if someone is good they will go to heaven.But the responses that surprise me the most are from Christians.They assure me that she’s good and will go to heaven.She’s dying but she seems to be at peace.

That assurance brings me no comfort because I know that if she hasn’t accepted Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, this will be the last peace she will experience.I have been burdened and desperate for her salvation.My concern is for the eternal consequences of any unredeemed sinner.

At times she seems peaceful.But I’ve been there at night.That peace was exchanged for torture.A grimace crosses her face.Her glazed eyes seem to be following something along the ceiling.She is shaking her head no and can not be calmed.

While I claim no divine revelation…I believe it’s entirely possible that Satan has sent his demons to taunt her at the prospect that she will be joining them with her impending death.I look up at the ceiling.There’s nothing there visible to the eye.But she is seeing something…and is quite tortured.

That’s why I’m desperate for her salvation.I would rather she experience discomfort this side of heaven…and enter in to eternal rest and peace when she dies.That’s why I’ve ask my friends to go see her and pray with her and for her salvation.That’s why I called Chris on my cell phone and asked him to pray with us and for us.That’s why I don’t care what anyone thinks when I put the speaker on and place it next to Gayle’s ear as Chris prays for my mom and her salvation.That’s why I’m kneeling by her bed and praying on the phone with my beloved man.Where two or three are gathered together…even over the phone.

If my mom dies without Jesus…it won’t be because she’s not heard about him.It won’t be because no one has shared the Gospel message.It will be because she has a hard heart and wants to come to God her own way.Not the prescribed way that God has laid out in the Bible.

When I see the tortured look on her face and see that she can not be comforted…it’s a small preview of what her eternity will be like if she dies without Christ.

That’s why Jesus may be the last thing she hears from me as I’m desperate that God will use anything to bring her to a saving faith in Christ Jesus…before her divine appointment with death.

Her divine appointment has become mine.I’m not sure what God is teaching me in this.But I know He is at work, in both me and my mother.I would rather her death be painful and her eternal life be peaceful and joyous.

The nurses tell me her time is short.A day or two.It’s in the Lord’s hands…as is her salvation.Her inability to speak and give visible acknowledgement of faith is a reminder to me that our salvation is all a work of God, not of us, least any man should boast.

One of the blessings in these last days of her life is that I get to meet the nurses that work the overnight shift.Offer my thanks and encourage them as they work with people in the most critical time of their life.All too often when family is absent.

So…would you please join me in praying for my mother’s salvation?I would be most grateful.Her divine appointment is drawing close.Salvation is a work of God…and I pray that if she is not saved, that He will bring her to a saving faith in Jesus Christ.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

“Michael, a few years ago I promised I would call you when mom is dying.That’s why I’m calling.So if you want to come and see her, now is the time.”

I wouldn’t have guessed I would be making that phone call to my brother.Honestly my biggest struggle in the last six years has been the fact that my brothers have both bowed out at this time in her life.I’ve struggled with it...I resented them not being there or helping.I didn’t understand why there were no birthday cards, mother’s day flowers or an occasional phone call to find out how she’s doing.

But God gently lead me to fulfill that commitment to make that phone call.

While my mother has recovered nicely from the pneumonia that had sent her to the hospital a couple of weeks ago, she has gone downhill rapidly.I was hoping the deficits that she experienced during her hospitalization would rebound when she returned BrightonGardens, her home for the last six years.

At first it appeared that she would bounce back.She seemed to be interacting a little more and even started eating a bit.But those hopes were short lived.

Now her head is down most of the time.A by product of Alzheimer’s.The disease has now effected her neurologically...and she can’t hold up her head for more than couple of seconds.That means she’s not able to look around and see what’s going on around her.She’s not able to look people in the face, unless they get down and look up into her face.Her appetite with pureed foods has diminished...but never more so than now when drinks are reduced to thickened liquids.That in the attempt to keep her from chocking, but has instead taken away her desire to eat or drink.

While there were times her constant humming...or counting and banging was annoying...her silence and non communication is much worse.Now days a squeeze of hand is about as good as it gets.On a good day...she might even look at me briefly.

She’s given up...and no longer wants to live.I think the nail in the coffin, so to speak, was when she was transferred to the rehab facility.There she was the patient in bed 40 C, not Gayle.Thank goodness for Hospice.They were able to get my mom transferred back to BrightonGardens, where she is Gayle.Someone who is well known and well loved.

But now she is dying.She is not eating or drinking.She interacts minimally...and there is nothing that I can do to change it, or make it better.

Yes...I’m praying...and know that God cares and is at work in the situation.

Mostly I pray for my mom’s salvation.I don’t know with any degree of certainty that she is saved.She has been in church, but I don’t know if she is in Christ?She was raised by Christian parents, went to church when she was young.When she got married...her faith was not expressed, nor taught to her children.When my dad died...that’s when my mom started going back to church.I struggle with knowing whether she has a saving faith in Jesus Christ, because I don’t see how someone would forsake their genuine faith and fail to teach that life giving faith to their children. When she remarried...we went to church as a family.

I discussed faith with my mom over the years.Especially after I became a Christian.I’m not sure if she was just private about her faith? Or if she has an intellectual acknowledgment that there is a God, but that not really believing that Jesus is the only way to salivation?Does she really believe in the reality of hell?I don’t know.

Sometimes my mom would go to church with me when she was visiting for the day.I know then she did hear the Gospel message.We dialogued about faith...but I can’t honestly say, “Her spirit bore witness with my spirit.”

So when one of the workers at Brighton comforted me with the thought that my mom seems to be in peace during her dying process...I have no peace or comfort at that thought.

I would be at peace with her death, if I was assured of her salvation.

But I don’t know that, nor do I have that peace.If she doesn’t know Jesus Christ as her Lord and Savior, then the peace she has now in dying will give way to utter, unending torment in hell for eternity.How can I have peace with that?

Yet...I know that death is a divine appointment.There is no panic in heaven, only plans.God is still able to reach that mind, even in the midst of Alzheimer’s.So I pray, I sing hymns and tell her about Jesus.I ask God that He might give me a sign that she has a genuine saving faith.But I know that I might not know that, this side of eternity.No matter what, I will still praise Him.

My biggest regret is that, while she still had her faculties, I didn’t live a life that made my mother hunger and thirst to know Christ.I didn’t have a peace that drew her to know Jesus.I didn’t have a consistent trust in Jesus, no matter what my circumstances were that made her ask, “How can I have that too?”.

I’m adopted...and so many of my family members don’t know Jesus Christ as their Savior.I wonder why God plucked me out and called me to a saving faith...in the midst of unbelieving family members.I wonder...what good has my life been as a witness to Christ, if my own mother dies without receiving Jesus as her Lord and Savior.

So I don’t have a lot answers right now.But I do know that God is at work in my mom.Even thought I might not know the outcome until I get to heaven.I know that my faith is being tested.Will I still praise and trust God, with some pretty important and critical unknowns?Will I?Yes, even now, I will yet praise Him.

Before I dialed the phone to tell my brother about our mom...I prayed, “God...give me the words, guide my words and actions.”I ended up leaving a message for my brother.I asked him to call me and I’ll give him the details.If he doesn’t call back, I’ll call him again.I figure he’s accountable before God for his actions.I don’t want to hold a grudge or carry the burden of resentment, hurt and pain any longer.It’s in God’s hands.

I’m praying that God will oversee the details and timing of my mother’s death. That in His mercy, she will come to a saving faith in Jesus Christ as her Lord and Savior. That if she already knows Him...that God will give me a confirmation so that I can have His peace knowing her future is secure in Christ.

The above clip was taken at Dennis Prager's 25th Gala Anniversary event held at the Nixon Library on April 3, 2008.

Since I've been a Dennis Prager fan for most of those 25 years...I figured I'd splurge and get the premier tickets. The thought of possibly meeting Dennis was too much to turn down. Besides that...there would be others there whom I admire and listen to on conservative talk radio. Afew times I was close to shaking Dennis' hand...but there were too many people to push my way through.

I was very excited to meet Dennis' parents Max and Hilda Prager...who have been married for 68 years. Max is 89 years old...and looks like he's in his sixties. Hilda is 88 years old and is drop dead gorgeous. She reminded me of Sarah in Genesis who even in her old age was very beautiful.

Max...what a cutie he is...and real flirt.I so enjoyed talking to him.I told him how much I loved his son and his work and how blessed by God he and Hilda are.Max agreed.We talked a little bit about his writing.Max is in the process of writing his memoirs.He said he’s writing it for his family...and if they choose to publish it...so be it.You can view is memoirs in progress on Max Prager’s Attitude& Gratitude.

I was unexpectedly taken aback by Max.He was talking about how wonderful his marriage has been with Hilda.They are very much in love even to this day.Max said that before they got married, Hilda told him, “Max, if we ever get married, I promise you will be number one in my life.”

Wow...to a single, modern American woman...that is a foreign concept.Putting your husband first...making him number one.Please!But before I could utter a word...Max said that promise and commitment by his wife was a huge part of why their marriage has been so wonderfully successful...68 years later.

I walked away...having another lesson in the lies and failures of feminism.Feminism...would have me believe that I should put myself first.Not a man...and certainly not put my husband over my own needs, wants and desires.But indeed when a woman does that...hopefully it pay dividends of a successful and loving marriage to a man who is equally committed to his wife.

That advice was very timely...as I’m currently dating a very godly man with whom I find myself deeply in love with.Because of his character and commitment to God...I could easily commit, that after God, I would make him number one in my life. Thanks Max...if indeed this is the man I will one day marry...I will put to use one of the keys to a successful marriage.

I was also very excited to meet Allen Estrin and give him a big hug and offered my thanks for an excellent program.I told Allen how much I like the honey journal that he is keeping on the Dennis Prager Blog.Allen has a very dry sense of humor...so I especially enjoyed his part of the roast.

All in all...it was a great night...and I was so glad that I went. Twenty-five years is a long time...and Dennis Prager has been a big influence on my life...especially regarding conservative politics and my understanding on the differences between men and women.It was worth it to get the premier tickets.

The clip below is from Allen Estrin’s roast.Dennis will frequently turn to Allen during his show and say, “Allen, write that down.”It’s almost a daily thing.So it was with great joy that Allen turned the tables on Dennis.

“You’ve not been engaged with God this week.” was Chris’ keen observation after watching me in the middle of an overwhelming week.

I’m a wrestler...I wrestle with God regularly.For so long I thought that was a bad thing...that indicated a lack of faith.But I think I’ve come to realize it’s not bad...it’s not bad at all.When I’m wrestling...I’m right there with God...as I work through the issue.We are up close and personal.There are times, like Jacob, I feel as if God touches me and I walk away with a limp that will remain for the rest of my life. Wrestling with God is preferable to being disengaged from God.

Disengaged means that I’m attempting to handle the situation on my own. Taking care of things on my own strength, power, ability and wisdom.I think I was driving back from lunch when it hit me...I realized that I had been trying to handle everything on my own.Unsuccessfully I might add.That realization helped me to turn the situation over to God.I asked Him to work out the details.I had a preference for how it would turn out...but I was ready and willing to accept God’s will in the situation.

Just days after I had to have my 16 year old kitty Nathan put to sleep, my mom was hospitalized with pneumonia and congestive heart failure.There were several times during the week that I felt certain my mom was going to die.If not die...she was languishing in a hospital bed, now known only known as the patient in bed C, not as Gayle.Even in her Alzheimer’s state she was scared and depressed...she was giving up.

Try as I might...I couldn’t make it better.I couldn’t work out the details to get my mom transferred back to her assisted living facility.I was dealing with a cold uncaring discharge planner who lied and had no compassion on my mother...relegating her to a rehab center in which I was certain she would die.I felt desperate...yet I didn’t turn to God for help, guidance and wisdom.Like the Energizer Bunny...I kept on going...but that was about to stop.

The revelation that I had been trying to handle it all instead of giving it to God...was God’s merciful turning point.It started with a text message from Chris...with a reminder that I was to walk by faith and believe God.The hammer hit the nail on the head when Chris texted me John 15:5...abiding in God and without Him I could do nothing.Indeed that was painfully true.I was coming up short at every turn.

Not sure why I didn’t automatically turn it over to God?But I do know the circumstances, as they were, kept me from my normal Bible studies and fellowship.Instead of being at church, a prayer meeting or at BSF...I was at the hospital.A painful reminder on how quickly I can fail when I’m not regularly, daily in the study of His word and in prayer.When I have a relationship...it’s natural to share what’s going on in my life.When that fellowship is broken...I’m not thinking about sharing with God.

At times...I was exhausted...numb...my mind could not focus enough to pray.But that’s when I needed to do that the most.I suppose at that point...my best bet is to grab a friend...and have them pray with me.Prayer brings me back to God.It begins and ends with God.

Once I realized that I needed to hand it over to God...I was reminded that death is a divine appoint.There is no panic in heaven, only plans.That God could use even these circumstances and bring good out of it.

Once I turned it over to God...and asked Him to work out all the details, He brought in to my path Hospice.It was recommended by the Rehab doctor.I never would have thought to bring in Hospice.But thank You Lord...You were working out the details.The people were compassionate and caring...wanting what was best for my mom.They were able to arrange for my mom to be brought back to her home for the last six years.A place where she is well known and well loved.

Perhaps this was God’s way of getting these people in our lives now...and in the future where we will need their help even more.Today I was able to share with the Hospice Chaplain that I am uncertain of my mother’s salvation.I asked him to make sure that is his primary focus when he sees her.

I thank God for bringing Chris in to my life.He reached out...and brought my focus back to God.He reached out...and kept reaching out with kindness, care and compassion.

It felt so good tonight to be back to Bible Study Fellowship.As I did my lesson this weekend...God showed me that He rewards those who diligently seek Him.Oh Lord....may I diligently seek You and be ready next time to wrestle with You and be engaged.Trust me...there will be a next time.

Sword of the Spirit

A Little Something

I’m 57 and though I’m not what I should be, praise God I’m not what I used to be. I spent many years angry at God, running from Him and tried to deny His existence. Through the loving witness of my neighbors the Bocks, I saw a clear picture of God who loves me. At 32, I recognized I was a sinner, repented of my sins and received Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. I know that God still answers prayers. For many years I prayed for a husband and on the eve of my 49th birthday, God brought Chris Wachtel into my life and 7 months later we were married. I am conservative in my politics, but a former liberal. I even campaigned for Jimmy Carter and I rue that day. I find liberal leftist thinking, while well intentioned, ultimately flawed. I’ve been abundantly blessed by God with gifted pastors and teachers. I’m most grateful for Pastors Philip De Courcy and Chuck Obremski who faithfully taught the Word of God. I've also grown through BSF and CBS Bible Studies. God has recently moved us 1,500 miles from CA to TX. Not sure what the Lord will be doing in us and through us, but I am grateful to be walking with and depending on Him each day.

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My Colors Will Be Clear

I am a part of the fellowship of the unashamed. I have Holy Spirit power. The die has been cast. I have stepped over the line. The decision has been made. I'm a disciple of His. I won't look back, let up, slow down, back away, or be still.

I no longer need position, promotions, or popularity. I don't have to be right, first, tops, recognized, praised, regarded or rewarded. I now live by presence, learn by faith, walk by patience, lift by prayer, and labor by power.

My face is set, my gait is fast, my destination is heaven, my road is narrow, my way is rough, my companions few. My Guide reliable, my mission clear. I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, deluded or delayed. I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of adversity, negotiate at the table of the enemy, ponder at the pool of popularity.

I won't give up, shut up, let up, until I have stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up, and preached up for the cause of the One that gave me life, drew the line in blood for me in the hour of my destiny.

I am one of Christ's remnant people. I belong to Him and none other. All I do to bring this life to another is done because of that blood covenant poured out for me.

I must go till He comes, give till I drop, preach till all know, and work till He stops me. I must share will all that one more might hear and be drawn from the flaming darkness that longs to consume. Reach for another, touch but one more!

Until that moment...He will have no problem in recognizing me- my colors will be clear!!!

Not only are the words inspiring but so is the man behind them. The above letter was written by a Pastor in Africa who was undergoing severe persecution. On the eve of his execution he sat down and wrote the above note.